


Long Live the King

by indie_writes



Category: Newsies - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, background Blush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-19
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-12-31 18:33:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12138564
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/indie_writes/pseuds/indie_writes
Summary: I was asked on the Tumblr account I share with my friend (alltheheadcannons) to write a really angsty background for any Newsie that I wanted to. Naturally, I chose Spot because I can't think of someone who would have an angstier backstory...





	Long Live the King

**Author's Note:**

> Tw: Homophobia and homophobic slurs

Spot stretched out the muscles in his back as he stood up, it was five o'clock and he had a very important meeting to get to. There was an eight o’clock curfew set by the current King of Brooklyn, a mean bastard who ruled with an iron fist. Spot tried not to think about what would happen if anyone knew where he was going or what he was doing. The King- his name was James but no one was ever allowed to use it- didn’t tolerate the breaking of any of his rules, especially those which concerned the behaviors of the newsboys under his command. Sneaking out after selling to meet up with a cute boy was breaking at least two of them, which was basically a death sentence.

As he walked to the small alley on his side of the Brooklyn Bridge, he remembered the first time he saw The King completely lose it. The kid around fourteen, the same age was Spot was now, he’d spoken out against him about the rule that none of the boys were allowed to be in relationships with other boys. The King grabbed the kid by the shirt, lifted him off the ground, then threw him into the nearest table and destroyed it. He marched over and kicked and punched until the kid finally stopped screaming for him to stop. The last they ever saw of that boy was him being dragged out of the front door to god-knows-where. It was the other newsies who were left to clean up the broken table and the blood left behind.

This is what Spot thought about every day at exactly five in the afternoon, as he went to see his friend Racetrack Higgins. His friend, because if they’d classified it as anything more then that would make it harder to stop whatever they were doing. They knew they’d have to stop eventually, if they were caught either one or both of them would be killed or arrested. The two had been able to practice sneaking around in the few months they’d been “together”, so they knew the best places to hide out. Spot was overridden with anxiety by the time he’d arrived at their scheduled meeting place where Race was waiting for him. It was right by the docks, so there was usually a whole bunch of boxes which acted as a door to the alley. Spot hopped over to the other side and found him sat against a wall with a hat covering his eyes.

“Wake up you idiot!” Spot whispered affectionately, removing Race’s hat.

“Couldn’t have let me have five more minutes now could ya?” Race smirked, snatching it back. Spot fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt in an attempt to look anywhere but Race’s face.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Race started to stand but Spot slid down to the floor next to him before he got the chance. Spot grabbed Race’s hand tightly in his own.

“Just kiss me.” he said quietly, deathly afraid that anyone would hear him. If Race could just kiss him, maybe he could forget about everything else and get lost in the one person he’d let take his defenses away.

“You should’ve just said so!” Race laughed, pulling Spot onto his lap and pulling him close. The shorter boy held himself as close as possible to the other, holding on tightly to his partner’s arms to ground him. If it hadn’t been for the pounding in his ears or his thoughts that took him anywhere but here, Spot might’ve been able to hear the quiet footsteps on hollow boxes.

“What in the world are you doing Conlon?!” a voice bellowed. Spot immediately tore himself away from Race and looked up, only to stare right at the face of The King.

“Out of all the newsies in Brooklyn, I never figured you’d be a faggot.” he growled, hopping down from the boxes and grabbing the back of Spot’s shirt and yanking him to his feet. He slammed Spot into the wall behind him, laughing as he heard the smaller boy’s head hit the brick surface.

“Let him go!” Race screamed, now standing.

“As much as I’d love to kill you too faggot, you’re not my newsie, not my problem. Cheese it kid, while you still have the chance.” he spat.

“I said let him go!” he tried to pry The King off of Spot, but he was much too strong for the scrawny fourteen year old.

“Should’ve listened…” he hissed, punching Spot in the face to stun him before turning around to Race. He quickly undid his belt which sent Race running, but he was too slow.. The King pinned his arms to his side and fastened him to the ladder a few feet away with the belt before returning to his main target who was still slumped over on the ground.

“Come with me.” The King’s voice rumbled as he spoke and soon Spot was lifted once again, and dragged out of the alley.

“Spot no! Let go of him you bastard!” Race screamed so loud it felt like his throat was being ripped apart. He struggled against the thick leather belt until his arms burned. Spot struggled in The King’s arms, but he was still moving closer and closer to the edge of the docks. There were quite a bit of people there, most of them kids who also worked in Brooklyn but no one made a move to help or scatter. Spot was thrown at The King’s feet and looked up as fear paralyzed the rest of him..

“No one breaks my rules and gets away with it!” The King roared, jumping on top of the younger newsie, punching and kicking. All the other kids scattered once they realized a fight was about to break out, and no one wanted to see what The King was about to do. Spot was able to land some punches, but not enough to stop the older newsie’s frenzy of destruction. He wouldn’t stop and the pain just kept coming until it all seemed to blend together and Spot tasted blood. He assumed it was his but there was really no way of knowing. He’d begun to grow tired and The King could sense that, and soon he held Spot in the air by the front of his shirt.

“If you drowned right now, I bet no one would miss you. Should we test it?” The King held Spot out over the water so he was dangling over the dark blue abyss. He looked up and into The King’s eyes, he’d never ever forget the way those eyes looked at him. They were all crazy and empty, like a lion who hadn’t eaten in days. Spot thought it might be better to just surrender and let this all be over with, but as he started to close his eyes, he heard Race was still screaming from the alleyway. If I die, then who’s going to protect him? That thought was enough to light a fire in Spot’s stomach and summon some strength back into himself. The King let go, and for a few moments he was falling. For a few moments he was falling and he had to make a decision. He reached out for the ledge and grabbed it, ignoring the burning sensation in his ribs. Spot pulled himself back onto the docks with what abilities he had left and noticed The King walking back toward the alley where Race was being kept. Oh hell no.

Every Brooklyn newsie knew how new kings got “elected” but they never talked about it, probably because if they did then they would all be arrested. Spot lept into the air and tackled The King to the ground. Overwhelmed by panic and anger, Spot only knew one objective- kill The King. He felt a deep guilt in his stomach as he knew what he had to do, and he thought of Race, of the youngest Brooklyn newsies who hadn’t gotten all screwed up yet, and he kept fighting. Everything else outside of that moment was forgotten as he slammed The King’s head into the wooden floor. He was able to get a few good hits in as he got the element of surprise. He was soon thrown off The King, who lunged at him like a wild animal and Spot reached around for something behind him.

“Don’t even think about it!” he yelled, grabbing Spot’s feet and pulling him away. He was becoming noticeably unhinged as he began to lose his advantage. The King pressed his knees into Spot’s legs and landed some bruising hits on his chest and face. Spot rolled out from underneath him, and scrambled to his feet. He grabbed The King’s arm and shirt and threw him onto the pile of boxes stacked by the edge of the dock. He slammed into the center, falling into the harbor underneath the rest of the crates with a giant splash. Spot immediately rushed over to the side to check for any signs that The King might still be alive. There was bubbling at the surface as the water began to settle, but the only thing that came up was another empty box.. Spot sank to his knees at the edge of the dock, the emotions hadn’t yet taken their full effect.

“Hey everyone! Spot Conlon killed The King of Brooklyn!” a young newsie hollered, popping out from behind a building.

“The King is dead, long live Spot Conlon!” A few others shouted. Soon he was met with many other Brooklyn newsies as they rejoiced over the end of an era. A few boys had even started to cry with relief, one of them being his good friend Blink.

“Now I can see Mush whenever I want to…” he weeped. Mush. Boyfriend. Race.

Spot dashed back to the alley to find Race leaning against his restraints, sobbing into the ground.

“Racer, it’s okay I’m here!” he called, running to him.

“S-sean? You’re alive?” he cried. Spot undid the belt and Race’s arms immediately wrapped him in a hug.

“I’m alive…” he whispered, not quite believing it himself either. He gripped Race’s shoulders tightly as the weight of everything that had happened threatened to crush his chest flat. He no longer had the energy to stand, so as his knees buckled Race guided the two of them to the ground. Spot began to shake and soon they were both crying, and Spot felt a few sobs rip through his entire body.

“I ain’t a killer!” he wailed. Race pulled away to look him in the eyes.

“Of course you ain’t, Sean. You did what you had to do, he was a total monster and would’ve killed us both!” Race pulled Spot into his lap and rocked him back and forth silently as the Brooklyn Newsies welcomed in their new leader.

Long live the king!  
Long live the king!  
Long live the king!


End file.
